I'm Not Ready to Die
by CookieLeCreep
Summary: She was in his room, she was on his bed, but more importantly, she was there alone.
1. Chapter 1

**Delena fan-fiction.**  
><strong>May contain inappropriate content.<br>Part One **

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><p>No texts, no calls. What was going on? She braked hard and turned the car off. He had to be at home.<p>

She ran up to the door and paused. Should she knock? No. The handle turned in her hand; it was unlocked as always.

A quick look around at the old furniture and antiques. "Stephan?" No answer. Elena proceeded into the living room, then the kitchen. Nothing. "Stephan? Are you here?" Silence again. The entire house was eerily dark, the kitchen almost pitch black.

As she made her way across the hall to the staircase, the moonlight from the windows illuminated her features: her dark hair breezing as she walked, her luscious lips, so close he could feel them trembling, and that neck, that tender neck, hot with anxiety, it beckoned him closer and closer out of the shadows until it burned deep inside him, a want he could hardly bear any longer for the taste of her skin on his lips was overwhelming to a point of no return. He looked down. The counter he had once been leaning on was now covered in blood from his clenched hand. Sweating, he desperately tried thinking of something else, a distraction, anything. He stepped back into the shadows, teeth aching. Nothing was working.

"Stephan…" Elena had given up cooing his name. He wasn't here or at the grill, nowhere in town. He's probably out hunting, she reassured herself, and continued to admire his room with curiosity.

A few minutes later, after reading countless book-spines and sifting through useless drawers, Elena hopped onto the bed and lay looking at the ceiling. If anything she could wait for him here once he got back. But how long would that be? She peered out into the hallway, and around at the room once more. She cradled her head against the luscious down feather pillows and thought of his arrival. Her mind raced with exciting thoughts and her eyes grew heavy. The time of the night was finally catching up with her.

He swallowed hard, the cold sweat of liquor and temptation still wet on his face and hands; the magnetism of her scent alone compelled him step by heart wrenching step. She was in his room, she was on his bed, but more importantly, she was there alone. But at that moment a pulsing wave roared through his body, filling him with an overpowering lust for the source of this manic pleasure. He fell to his knees panting, gasping for air clean of her intoxicating aroma while holding the rafting for fear of drowning in desire. As her heartbeat grew painfully faster, his self-control slowly diminished.

He slammed her into the wall and snickered, eyeing her up and down. She clawed at his hands gasping for air, her sobs blurred her vision and the taste of salt disgusted her. Dangerously close, he breathed on her, the stench of hot liquor burned her nostrils as she tried desperately to break free. "Get off of me! Get off!" She exclaimed between wild sobs and thrashes, unsuccessful against pure delirium. In return, he held her arm steady by his lips; kissing it, smelling it, but she yanked herself away in disgust. She looked up at his eyes boring into hers with an insanity she'd never seen in him. They were dead of emotion yet livid with pure disoriented frenzy, and his smile, god, his smile was twisted, demonic and bore the image of his yearning teeth, dripping with saliva into her memory forever; he was completely possessed by temptation. A loud thud, then everything went from horrifying, to black, to the dim lighting of Stephan's room. Awoken and immobile from the fear of her dream and the fear of the reality of what lurked beyond the doorway, Elena sat still on the bed listening. Heavy breathing arose from the lower steps. Wide-eyed, she contemplated the possibility it could very well be Stephan. "Stephan…?" More breathing. "Stephan…"

Badum..badum,badum,badumbadumbadumbadum!

It was unbearable, deafening.

Badumbadumbadumbadum!

The sound ripped through his eardrums and seared his insides. Her veins, her flesh, her blood screamed for him, begged him to end it all and submit to his undying hunger for her. He grabbed his ears to contain any last sense of morality still keeping him at the bottom steps. It was too much. He wanted nothing more than to cry out in pain, to cry out to her.

"UgAH!" A gutteral roar arose from the staircase and reverberated through himself and the entire house.

Elena jumped off the bed at the sound, horrifying and heart wrenching, and threw herself into the hallway. He was there heaving against the wood, twisted and gripping the bottom stairs, desperately trying to crawl up. "Damon!"

No. She neared him, eyes wide with distress. He was going to fail her. She was mouthing things he couldn't hear, moving her lips wildly and reaching for him as she hurdled down the steps. His stupidity was going to ruin everything he had so carefully tried to rebuild time and time again. Closer and closer she came, as did her tantalizing aroma, the sound of her blood, her heart, and the hunger for her just near him. He ducked his head. "Elena…" His mouth was dry and gasping for the taste of her air. "-the shower, take me to the shower…" Obeying, she grabbed his arm over her shoulder and aided him up the stairs. "Damon! What happened to you? What did you do!" She frantically searched for answers, but his head hung slump even when his legs were partially moving.

"In here…" He exhaled when they neared his bedroom door. Panicked, Elena threw open the door and dragged his trembling body to the bathroom. The room quickly filled with steam after she turned the handle. She turned back to him, slumped on the floor against the wall and rushed to his side. "Damon? Damon, are you hurt?" She pushed the hair from his face. His temples burned her palm. "God, Damon, what happened-" But before she could comprehend, he gripped her hand and lifted his face to hers. "The shower, Elena…" Seething hateful, hungry, bloodshot eyes pierced through her. She tugged to move him into the water, but he still held her, his eyes fixed intently on her arm, it's pulse. His eyes were turning the color of her demise. Elena's eyes widened at the sight.

"D-Damo-" He tightened his hold on her; her electric skin was paralyzing to his self-control. He knew what he could do to her, what he yearned to do to her. His nose grazed her arm, smelling her intoxicating aroma while his tongue hunted the vein that pounded his eardrums.

"No..." She gasped, enthralled at the scene gone horribly wrong in front of her. His body ached and shivered for her, battling against his remaining conscience. "No!" Elena tugged free and stumbled backwards against the marble floor, her head slammed against the wall behind her. Dazed, she stumbled to her feet, staring in horror at the floor red with stains of blood, and his face twisted with animalistic instinct. His teeth opened her arm wide to the dangers of a crazed vampire.

It was too late. Damon lurched forward at an ungodly velocity and collided with her, mid stance, knocking the air out of her lungs. She desperately gasped to recover, but his hand was already at her throat, his other on her bleeding arm, pinning her helplessly against the wall. Completely overcome, his grip remained steadily cold; Elena's feverish attempts to claw at him were useless. He was choking her to death.

Badumbadumbadumbadum!

There was no avoiding it. The life he had worked so hard to protect was about to crumble beneath him in a deadly embrace.

"I'm sorry…" He mouthed against the skin of her arm, barely audible over her gasps for air, her terrified eyes begging him to stop. Damon ripped the shirt away from her shoulder and jerked her face to the side. It was all he knew and everything she wanted to change about him. Anger swelled at the pit of his stomach, empty from the only blood he had resisted so well since they day he first lusted for her. He laid his lips on her neck for the first and last time and lunged forward, awaiting a complete euphoria.


	2. Chapter 2

**Delena fan-fiction.**  
><strong>May contain inappropriate content.<br>Part Two**

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><p>Quicker than she had anticipated, his muscles went slack, his arms dropped by his side, and before he fell to the floor a look of shameful defeat pleaded her for his forgiveness.<p>

Elena stood horrified in place; the syringe fell from her hand, and a tear escaped her control of her emotions. She breathed in deep, hoping she could collect herself, but instead exhaled with breaking sobs. As the pain rippled through her, she held her neck, still throbbing, and slid to the floor. A horrible vulnerability engulfed her, destroying her will to feel any compassion towards him, any feelings at all ever again.

His body lying mangled upon the floor sent her into a fit of shaking and sobbing as she tried desperately to get up and leave him; forget him forever and run into the arms of Stephan to be truly protected. But her will escaped her long before she saved them both. Elena found herself inevitably protecting him as he would her and it was killing her; this tragedy of conflicting emotions dumbfounded and utterly astounded her. She never realized how much she cared for him, and how little of it mattered now.

She closed her eyes, body aching, and lay on the hard tile, gripping her arm, and fell into a painful unconsciousness.

"Get off of me! Get off!" She tore herself away from that familiar hold, stared into those familiar manic eyes. All she could see were his teeth, dripping with hunger; menacing like death, they pierced right through her, starting a fit of trembling in the bones of her body. She moved backwards, away from him, the hideous monster he had become.

In sync, he followed suit, inching closer and closer to the vulnerable life he had tried so hard to protect. "Don't do this!" She begged, crying tears that trailed down her face and neck and quickening her backward pace. She hit the dresser behind her with a thud, and he pushed his body on hers, crushing her back onto the wood against her spine. She was panting now, her fits of tremors were no longer controllable as she shook achingly against him, gasping for air through his stone chest.

He grabbed her shoulders, lowering his nose to her face. It glided along her skin, lower and lower down across side of her cheek and under her chin, savoring her perfection. Repulsed, she tugged her shoulders from under his grip and reached behind her. Glass shattered against him as he fell to the floor, raining down red and glittering white. Elena bolted for the door, her only means of escape, crying salted tears that tied her stomach in a knot and blurred her vision.

Growling arose from behind her, sending her heartbeat into frenzy. He caught her right arm hard and pulled, with such power behind it, her arm popped from its socket and ripped through the muscle that held it in place. "AGHN!" She screamed several octaves above normal; the pain of lacerated tendons seared through her, unbearably torturing her consciousness as well. He swung her in front of him, still holding onto her limp arm, and threw her into a wall, knocking down several frames.

Elena blinked, dazed, failing to stand up any longer. She slumped to the ground, trying to understand what to do, were to run. Her head spun with wild thoughts, memories of when things were better. Vision blurred, she strained to look at the ominous figure walking steadily towards her. She never wanted to die like this. But it was her choosing; the life she had chosen was a painful, lonely one, never to be rejoiced with grandchildren or peaceful death. Only suffering.

He choked her air and dug his nails deep into her neck, lifting her torturously off the ground and against the wall. With her left arm she clawed at him, her remaining strength quickly depleting, and managed draw blood. They both stared as it trickled down his tightened forearm, begging for revenge. He turned back to her, nose snarled in animalistic fury. Elena's eyes widened. She never saw it coming, but she felt it. The impact of his hand against her face scrapped her lips and cheek against her teeth, spurting blood against her gums and mouth. The taste gagged her of air, sucking in more blood. Choking, she coughed red and tried desperately to open her eyes. "Please…" She muttered between coughs. "I know you love me…" She whispered pathetically, lips and chin covered in her own blood.

Sneering at her misery, he grabbed a fistful of hair and tugged her head to the side.

Her cold sweat had left her skin gleaming, ready to be kissed by death. Her head struggled with its last enduring effort against him as she looked up. Those teeth, lusting for her behind gnarled lips, were gleaming with drool, eager to kill her themselves. "No-" But before she could finish, he lunged at her, blood, teeth, body aching for her heartbeat to weaken by his own will.

She never understood why pain felt the way it did, that perhaps it had a will of its own, with a mindset like viruses; attack and destroy. Kill.

Two teeth felt like a dozen knives twisting their way through the flesh and muscle of each punctured hole, forever carving her hatred towards him deep within her being. The room spun and made her aching stomach cringe; the rest of her limbs already limp and dying by the temptation of a madman-seeking fulfillment. Her gaze, locked on the exit she failed to escape from, served as a reminder in death for the dangerously naive choices she made. Slowly, Elena drifted away, to where she did not know; yet hoped for something more forgiving than suffering.

A black mass formed at the corner of her vision. She was fading away quicker than expected. It suddenly engulfed her peripherals, and the feeling of ripping consumed her neck. Her gut tightened, the rush of falling tousled her hair, and then a hard object impacted her shoulders, snaking its way around her waist. Was this really death? The hum of noise in front of her face confused her. She blinked repeatedly, trying desperately to conceptualize what was happening before her. Slowly, she felt herself being leaned against a wall on the ground. Then feral growling sounded from the blurred picture in front of her, pumping the remaining amount of adrenaline through her veins. Crashing and booming yells filled the emptiness of her flustered mind.

Two shapes moving fast and colliding with one another became clear to her. One was covered in red, while the other, dressed in black, held something in his hand. The two were panting, crouched in position to lunge at each other's throats.

"Damon…?" She asked into the livid battle. Welding his weapon high, the other figure charged towards him, aiming it at his chest. "Damon!" Elena cried, her voice breaking under the nausea she felt. She could do nothing for him, the beast who nearly murdered her. The power behind two hands stabbing him in the chest burst his heart, gushing blood from his mouth and the impact from the wound. He fell to his knees and collided with the floor. The other man dropped his weapon and stepped back. "No!" She wept, beginning to tremble, coughing at the resistance of her dry throat. "Shh, shh, shh…" he said, now in front of her, holding her against him and pushing the hair out of her face. "It's all right, it's okay. You're safe now, Elena."

His eyes, wide with anxiety, scanned her face, her wounds, the blood on her. He ripped a piece of t-shirt and pressed it to her neck, constraining his eager teeth. Her eyes grew weary. There was nothing left in her to fight with. "Don't you leave me Elena." He begged, nervously stroking her cheek, tears burning against the rim of his eyes. "Not like this…" he muttered, the side of his face lying against her head as he cradled it in his arms.

"Mmm…" She managed. His head jerked back to look at her, distraught and fearful, his eyes burning into hers with compassion for her safety.

"Damon…" Icy blue beacons set aflame by the love that bonded them together in his static embrace, lit her insides and filled her heart with fresh emotions. "I'm not ready to die."


	3. Chapter 3

**Delena fan-fiction.**  
><strong>May contain inappropriate content.<br>Part Three**

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><p>"Elena…" He moaned for her. Damon woke in a feverish sweat, his hair and clothes sticking to his skin. He licked the roof of his dry mouth, only irritating it more. The pain of vervain dissolving his insides had subsided, but the feeling of poison crawling up and into his arm grew bitterly painful by the second. He pulled himself up and moved the shirt from his arm trying not to gag. Boiling blisters and swollen veins engulfed his entire forearm, leaking a powerful odor that clung to his nostrils. "Elena, please help me…" He managed, exasperated from the fight against himself.<p>

"Damon…" She breathed. He sighed in relief at her voice, but found himself horrified. No words he said could ever compare to the apology needed for his actions. The guilty memory of her terror, of the lust he could not control, flooded him as he sunk down, flattening against the floor. Her eyes reflected the image of a true monster. A monster who would never know her love.

"Damon!" She yelled, startling herself awake. It was almost unbelievable, unbearable to think of Stephan that way; a gruesome animal only aiming to kill her.

But why hadn't it been Damon?

She held herself, shuddering, and remembered the feelings that flooded her dream; the one's brought to life by Damon's protective arms embracing her frail body. Elena's eyes swelled at the thought. Stephan was the one who was supposed to protect her, the one to hold her tight and make her feel safe. Elena loved Stephan and that was the end of it, but the start of something else, something awakened long ago, was beginning to build up inside her, conflicting with reality and what she truly wanted.

Damon's hungry eyes, his distorted face as he slammed her into the bathroom wall. She gripped her head, the memories ripping apart her mental stability. She didn't want it to be this way anymore.

"Elena?" He croaked, sitting up on his elbows. She looked at him, staring behind distressed, tortured eyes that mirrored his own. Elena was on the verge of loosing it completely, and it was entirely his fault. Damon's face grew hot fighting against shameful tears, and looked at her with the only plead for forgiveness he could manage. She tore her eyes away, not only at the sight of the miserable state he was in, but the lost feeling that remained at the pit of her stomach.

But although her conscious screamed at her, commanding her to do otherwise, she disobeyed, getting to her feet. Quickly, she gripped his shoulders and hauled him into the running water, still hot from being left on. How could she possibly care for him still? After he almost succeeded in killing her?

She looked at him, the mess he was, and a sting in her heart shot thorough her and ached her throat. Confounded tears burned her eyes while he muttered something inaudible and groaned in pain, leaning his head against the glass. It was when he reached out to touch her, the aches began to twist her gut, as she focused on the amount of blood crusted to his hands. "Damon, please-" She said while grabbing his hand from the shower opening, an unexpected tingle spreading through hers."-tell me what happened."

Not even an upward glance.

Damon's lips were twisted and trembling, holding back the whines of crying while Elena sighed, presuming to gently clean his hands. Despite the unbearable pain, he refrained from making it known. He turned his head away from her, watching as her blood fled his barbaric presence, escaping into the drain forever.

She reached her hand out to him and winced, expecting him to attack as she moved the hair from his face running her hands down his cheek. "Tell me." Elena pleaded, the compassion flooding her voice and touch. Aggravated, Damon achingly pulled himself away from her, exposing his shoulder now covered in tiny purple veins that snaked around his neck and dug into his collarbone.

Elena gasped, pulling his shirt away to reveal a ruthless assault of blisters and protruding veins that encased his entire arm. "Damon!" She shrieked, yanking the buttons off his shirt to remove it. "What is this? What's happening to you?" She pleaded, turning the facet handle off to gaze at the plague eating away at him.

Damon regretfully ignored her. This was never supposed to happen and she was never supposed to know. He wanted to die alone just as he'd been left to countless times before.

Elena kneeled between his open legs and pulled his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her demanding expression.

He wasn't going to tell her.

A tear gradually trailed down the side of her face.

He was never going to tell her.

She opened her lips to beg him once more, but he raised his hand, placing his thumb on her lips to stop her. "Elena…" He sighed, putting his hand on hers that held their faces so intimately close. His throat closed around his words, making a croaking noise that pained him, causing burning tears to roll down their faces. "I'm so sorry I failed you."

He winced, the lacerations in his throat becoming unbearable. He never wanted to tell her, but necessity quickly outweighed secrecy. "I'm not ready, Elena…"

Crying now, she held his hand tightly, bracing herself for the answer she so desperately desired. "Not ready for what?" She whispered, their noses touching. Her breath, patient and aromatic, warmed his cheeks, bestowing the will to finally kiss her with the same infatuation he'd felt since the day they met.

Damon raised his hand, effortlessly running it through her hair and behind her neck, luring her impedingly closer to his eager lips. "I'm not ready to die."


End file.
